CHAPTER 31 | MAKING HISTORY

POURING her deepest secrets to someone who clearly understood made Maia feel greatly relieved. Melisandre was an aid to the Lord of Light, thus she had quite a bit of knowledge on sorcery and different types of gifts. Melisandre immediately compared her gift to one of a Traveler, who had the ability to move through universes foreign to them after being reincarnated every 50 years. She deemed Maia instantly to have a larger purpose in the Seven Kingdoms then what she led on. The Red Woman wasn't sure if she was the true Traveler or not, but she couldn't deny the similarities. And that was oddly terrifying to Maia.

After a long night of telling Jon that though she could not fight in his battles, Maia wanted to travel with him to gather support. It took a lot of convincing – seeing as the two woke up on the floor next to a dying fire with furs wrapped around their bare selves – but Jon had finally agreed. She was scared, if she were being honest, because it wasn't everyday that she was threatened to be raped by some psychotic man she'd never met. But with having her important talk with Melisandre a few days prior, Maia knew this was the best she could do.

She waved good morning to Brienne and Podrick as they passed. Maia began readying her horse and stroked it's soft back. Jon had allowed her to ride the one she had admired for a while: a stark white stallion with long, black hair. As she attached her pack to the horse's reins, she felt a light kiss pressed upon her cheek, and Maia turned to Jon on her right.

His eyes – as usual – held an extreme sense of worry, and she guessed that if they were alone and not in the middle of the snow-covered courtyard, he would've been pacing. "Promise me you won't do anything rash while on this voyage."

"You're being ridiculous." She rolled her eyes before glancing at him once again. His face practically pled for her to agree. "Alright, I promise."

Leaning in, Maia pecked his lips softly. He held her chin in his gloved fingers, appreciating the way he could now kiss his lady in front of all to see, without worrying of his Watch duties. He could do everything that was in his former oath: he could take a wife, hold lands, and father children. The future was limitless now, but it was his fear for these times that was pushing him back.

"Everything will be fine." She compelled, her breath fanning his mouth enough to make him want to kiss her again. "Soon, we shall be in Winterfell. Your sister shall rule and you will have fought valiantly in any battles crossed. I can walk around in a pretty, velvet dress – made by yours truly – while exploring the depths of your home." Maia smiled at the possibilities.

Jon smirked, whispering for only her to hear, "I'd rather rip it off of you."

Maia narrowed her eyes. "You do that, and I'll hit your nose yet again, Snow."

He walked away with a tiny smile on his features, noticing Sansa sauntering in his direction. She held a large cloak in her arms and wore a new dress made of heavy fabric, the Stark emblem stitched into the front. "New dress?" He inquired, raising a brow.

The red-head smiled. "I made it myself. Do you like it?"

"It's nice," he replied, gesturing to the sigil she embroidered. "I like the wolf bit."

Maia could just hear the siblings over the snow storm, and she chuckled at Jon's comment. The man knew nothing about clothing.

"Good," Sansa said, holding out the cloak, "because I made this for you."

Jon took the new cape in his arms, seeing the Stark crest stamped into the leather straps. He looked back up at his step-sister.

"I made it like the one father used to wear, as near as I could remember." She explained with a grin. "Maia helped me a little. We've been sewing together for days."

He didn't know exactly what to say. He'd never been treated so highly before, and the gesture almost seemed too good to be true. "Thank you, Sansa."

"You're welcome," she nodded before striding away to her horse.

Maia slapped a hand on his back as he stared at the cloak. Jon glanced at her from over his shoulder. "Don't do anything rash with that."

The raven-haired man chuckled, using her aid to throw the cape on himself. Maia helped secure the leather bound straps over his chest, not noticing Ed walking their way. Jon smiled towards his friend, advising, "Don't knock it down while I'm gone."

They all looked up at the old-but-sturdy Castle Black. "I'll do me best." Ed replied. The two men went in for a short, sweet hug before Ed said, "Good luck."

Jon dipped his head as Ed went over to hug Maia, who held the shorter man tightly for longer than she should have. "I'll miss you, Ed. Please write to us." She requested, leaning away. "Thank you for always treating me right, from the first day."

That was when Eddison Tollett gave her the most genuine smile he could muster. "You're welcome, m'lady, but you were never a stranger to me."

Maia gave the man one last hug before both her and Jon hopped up onto their horses. She looked around at all of them: the small army of implorers looking for aid. As the gates opened, Jon's horse led, while Sansa and Maia rode just behind, and Melisandre, Ser Davos, and Tormund tailed them.

The red-head turned to the woman next to her. "We're going to make history, you know that?"

"Please," Maia snickered. "History's only just begun."

•••

They had stopped in a small tavern while on the road. It was a surprise that there was even one open in the dead of winter, but they headed into the midlands near the Gift, so it wasn't uncommon. The company was grateful to warm up by the torch light as they were served a hot beef pie from the chef, and filled their stomachs with ale provided for free.

Melisandre watched as Maia whispered something into Jon's ear as she hung her arms on his shoulder, causing him to chuckle. Sansa tapped on the table in front of the couple, begging to know what they were joking about. The Red Woman looked back down at the untouched pie on her plate. She remembered a time when she was infatuated with the raven-haired man, though she knew he had eyes for Maia the moment he saw her. A woman could dream.

She thought of all that Maia had told her of her other life. It was amazing to finally have proof that the Traveler wasn't an old tale. Melisandre was amazed to hear that the woman left her betrothed for someone like Jon Snow, but she couldn't blame her. It almost reminded her of the relationship between the long-gone Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. Both women were promised to another, but they couldn't help but run away with another passionate man. The similarities were astounding.

She spied Jon's sword, Longclaw, leaning against the table next to him, where he could grasp it in need of emergency. Her thoughts reverted to Lightbringer, the sword of fire that was destined to triumph over all evil. Remembering the times when she was so convinced Stannis was the Prince Who Was Promised made her feel foolish, but as she continued her stare on that one sword, she began to realize that her answers had been in front of her all along – even before the Lord had resurrected Jon. The prophecy concluded that the Prince would be born from Targaryen blood, though Jon was a Snow, so how could this be?

If there was one thing Melisandre didn't want, it was to be wrong again.

But then, if Jon Snow was the Prince Who Was Promised, that meant the powers within his own Lightbringer came with a price. As the legend went with the Azor Ahai, the man had to plunge his sword into the heart of his loving wife to unleash its energy.

She remembered reading the prophecy long ago so clearly: "Nissa Nissa," he said to her, for that was her name, "bare your breast, and know that I love you best of all that is in this world." She did this thing, why I cannot say, and Azor Ahai thrust the smoking sword through her living heart. It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel.

Melisandre thought in disbelief. Her grip on her fork grew tighter, for maybe she was overthinking to a time in the past.

"I know I've never shown much interest in the subject, but I think I might ask her to marry me, now that I'm free of my Watch duties." Jon muttered to Ser Davos behind closed doors, but little did they know the Red Woman was passing.

The Onion Knight threw Jon in for a hug. "You kept a secret of caring for her for so long, it's good to have it out in the open now. I hope you do as such, my friend."

Melisandre turned back to Jon at the end of the table, who was staring at Maia in the most tender way as she had a conversation with Sansa.

Maia was a Traveler. She had a purpose with not only Jon, but with Westeros. She was given this gift to help universes foreign to her. No, the girl couldn't just be a pawn in the Lord of Light's prophecy. It couldn't be –

"Are you alright, my Lady?"

Melisandre glanced to Ser Davos when she heard his call, noticing the Wildling next to her was staring as well. With a silent nod, she went back to sucking down the rest of her ale.